Popsicles For Crazed Yamis
by DJ Moves
Summary: Everyone's at the beach and (Yami) Bakura is contimplating. Throw in a crazed Marik yami who is scared of cherry popsicles and you get my story! Completed.


Title: Popsicles For Crazed Yamis  
  
Author: DJ  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairings: Yami Bakura/Yami Marik  
  
Minor Pairs: Kaiba/Otogi, Honda/Jounochi  
  
Notes: Yami Bakura is just Bakura and Yami Marik is Yarik. Yarik and Marik have no homicidal tendencies because...Yami banished the evil to the Shadow Realm. Yup. This is a fic challenge I asked for and Steph_hime (of Live Journal) gave me and the cold Popsicle was my friend's friend idea, Katie, and the rat jar was my friend Ashley's favorite scenario. So please, enjoy, and catch me on the flip side! ---I'm a dork. ^_^  
  
I shifted, uncomfortable, under the over-size beach umbrella. The twerps decided to go to the beach. So here I am, the fair skinned one, under the damn umbrella. With SPF 90. What's spff? It's some kind of cream shit. I bet you could use it for some kick ass lube or something. It doesn't taste good, though.  
  
I'm bored.  
  
Really, really bored.  
  
And my omote?  
  
He's wearing this dork-y large, straw hat with a humongous brim. And he still doesn't burn as much as I do. Why not? It's not fair! They're all playing foolishly in that damn water like a bunch of incompetent idiots! Even the stupid C.E.O. is taunting that dice tossing boyfriend of his. And I'm stuck under the umbrella, watching.  
  
I guess...I didn't HAVE to come. But Ryou dragged me along and now I'm here. Pouting. Not, I'm not pouting. King Thief, Bakura-sama does NOT pout! I sulk! Because everyone here is having fun but me! There's not even anyone to steal from! The blond mutt and his spike-haired fuck buddy scared them all away.  
  
Marik brought his stupid yami. He's threatening to drink the entire ocean, then hold the world leaders ransom for the deed to the planet. So far, all he's accomplished was giving himself a bellyache and sore eyes from the salt. So now he's jumping around blindly, saying he's a flying crocodile. Yami's been trying to calm him down AND remind him that crocodiles don't fly. Even Kaiba's gotten involved.  
  
"But crocodiles don't *have* wings, Yarik," Kaiba reminded him, pulling a towel around him.  
  
"Yes they do!" he shrieked.  
  
"Can you, uh...prove it?" Pharaoh no baka asked.  
  
"Sure!" He began jumping around, manhandling everyone, since he couldn't really see any of them very well. "Marik!" he yelled, jumping around.  
  
Marik raised his eyebrow, looking up from dumping a pail of water on the annoying blond dog's head. "Um...yes?" Yarik grabbed him and proceeded to begin to try to strip him of his shirt. Marik was the only one there besides me who was wearing a shirt. He liked to hide his...disfigurement to the best of his abilities. "Yami! Stop it! Yarik!"  
  
Yarik grinned his maniac smile and lifted Marik's lavender shirt up over his head. He pointed to the carved wings of ibis. "See! Crocodiles have wings!"  
  
"Yami!" Marik screamed, the edge of his voice beginning to sound close to tears. "Stop it!" He pulled his shirt down, his tanned skin hiding his flushed cheeks.  
  
Yami coughed nervously and Kaiba blinked, disturbed by the sight. It's not a very pretty sight, I gotta tell you. I like pain and all...but you understand why Marik's so embarrassed of them.  
  
Yami cleared his throat. "Uh, Yarik? Marik's not a crocodile," he softly reminded him.  
  
Yarik looked thoughtful at that. "Oh...yeah...sorry omote. I guess I'm a flying bunny then!" he shrieked, beginning to jump around again.  
  
"Uh, Yarik..." Yami began but the C.E.O. elbowed him.  
  
"Let the insane weirdo do what he wants."  
  
Jou joined them, placing his hands carefully on Yarik's shoulders. He turned him to face me. "Why don't you go play with Bakura, okay? Can you do that?" he asked as if Yarik was a little kid.  
  
I mean, jeez, when the pharaoh no baka had to banish all of Marik's evil away, couldn't that include the psycho yami, too? No, the homicidal crazy yami just turned into a HAPPY crazy yami.  
  
Ryou spoke up. "Um, Jounochi-kun...they don't get along too well."  
  
That ANNOYING dice-tosser had to butt in with, "Why, too much competition to take over the world or something?"  
  
Yarik bounded happily away from them (hey, I suppose I'd be just as ecstatic to get away from those flying fuck-tards) towards me. He plopped down next to me, getting sand on my blanket. "Hey Ba-KUR-a!" he shrieked, giggling like the maniac he is.  
  
"Yes, Yarik?" I bit off my words angrily.  
  
"Watcha doin?" he asked, bouncing up and down.  
  
"Contemplating."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Killing you."  
  
"Hrmph...would you do it with a knife or one of those shoot-y thingies," he asked, beginning to make something of a sand...monument...ish thing.  
  
"No gun. No knife. I think I'd take a jar filled with crazed, starved rats and superglue the open end of the jar to your face and hold a blow torch to the end of it, forcing them to eat through your head to free themselves."  
  
Yarik nodded, making another tower in the sand. "That sounds fun," he said distractedly.  
  
"I'm going to regret asking," I began, yawning, "but what are you thinking about?"  
  
"Popsicles."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Wouldn't it be really, really scary if you woke up being raped by a really cold Popsicle? Cherry flavored?"  
  
"Um..." I coughed nervously. "That would be terrible. Worse than a lime or even grape."  
  
Yarik nodded enthusiastic. He jumped up, slamming a foot in the highest mound of sand in his creation. "I'll be right back!" he sang out cheerfully.  
  
I rolled my eyes and laid down, curling up, trying to rest. Then next time I opened my eyes, I was staring into the golden eyes of the other yami. He was grinning. "I'm back!" he sang.  
  
I glanced past him at the boardwalk where a bunch of people were making a scene, then back at the golden, crazed boy in front of me. "I can't say I missed you."  
  
Yarik thrust a bomb pop in front of me. "Here, I got you some ice cream!" He began slurping on his fudge-sicle, looking...happy. I nervously took the frozen calorie fest and uneasily began to lick it. Yarik grinned. "You like it?"  
  
"Um...yeah...what did you do to it?"  
  
"Added my own brand of love!" he said, giggling.  
  
"Um, that's--"  
  
He grabbed me by the shoulders, pushing me down on my back and licking my lips. "You taste like cherry," he whispered, shuddering. "Not cherry," he murmured. "I don't like cherry."  
  
I looked up at him, eyes wide. "Uh...I imagine. When you worry about being raped by a cherry-- mrph..."  
  
He grabbed me and kissed me again, this time sticking his tongue in my mouth. "Mmmph...mmmm..."  
  
"Yarik!" I gasped. "Get off--"  
  
Yarik leaned up, licking at the chocolate treat, then dived right back into my mouth. I finally got into it, kissing him back, since he wasn't all that bad at it. And he's not bad looking, either. Just kind of creepy. But that's what I suppose anyone would think of me. Eh, glancing up at the golden-colored boy, I *really* hope people don't think I'm as crazy as him. But I'm...liking the way he kisses.  
  
That's when I noticed his licking my cheek. No longer kissing, just licking my cheek. "Uh, Yarik..."  
  
"Shhh," he said, putting his palm over my mouth. "Quiet, Bakura. I'm kissing you," he said seriously. He slipped his hands around my neck, squeezing them a bit, as if chocking me a bit. It made the kiss--  
  
Yarik sat up, sticking the fudge-sicle back into his mouth. "Want to hang out later?" he asked, sticking the dripping Popsicle in my mouth.  
  
"Mmph..." I bit into it, pushing Yarik's out-stretched hand back. "I...me? You? Together?"  
  
Yarik smiled triumphantly. "We're yamis. Our crazed liking for blood, world domination, and plan-old *real* FUN make us a perfect couple," Yarik spoke coherently for once. "Plus," he said, brushing his hair back, looking self-confident, "I'm plan sexy!" He raised his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
I shook my head, laughing. "Yeah, fine, we'll 'hang out' later. Sounds really great, Yarik..."  
  
"Your Popsicle is dripping," he said, pointing at the bomb pop. He leaned in and began sucking it. "Hmmm...I think cherry tastes better on you."  
  
I shook my head, smiling. Maybe the crazy yamis *do* belong together. 


End file.
